Edge Of Evening

I find myself kneeling

at the edge of evening

watching the light sink deeper

into night time’s heavy weight parchment.

A blot of sun’s fading

song remains here and there

pushing through unexpectedly

at decreasing intervals until eventually

they are all subsumed

by indigo’s depth and only

a smattering trail of silver stars

remain upon the sky. I dip my brush carefully

into the gold and red,

paint Jupiter and Saturn

colliding underneath a sliver

of old moon. She is chasing the sun

but will never catch him.

If you listen carefully

you can hear her plaintive call -

the voice of the perpetually heartbroken.

#vsspoem

Image by Wild0ne at Pixabay 

Twilight Robbery

I feel wine’s mellow madness on my tongue

already too soon on my tongue as I swallow the passing day

stale cheese biscuit crumbs attempt to cover the floor

sustenance dried out, cracked down to the core

I feel the moonlight soft on my face already

too soon on my face as I measure the fading day

spoonfuls of lost time spill from clumsy lips

a lifetime of regret sits heavy on the hips

I took the medicine and drank the green juice

attempted to follow the guidance of shams

I sit in the last light and count all my thumbs

pick out the cherries from amongst today’s crumbs

I took tea with a druid, his cookies were fresh

I lay in the red tent, held by spirit, flew free

entranced in the moment, did not hear time’s call

at the end of the day I’d give a fig for some more

Blue is receding, kidnapped by Evening

she doesn’t want to leave but is too tired to fight

and here comes Night with her wine and deep sighs

I’ll gather them up, look her straight in the eyes

say I know you are bound by the moon and the sun

but can’t you be late, hold off, just for once?

she laughs in my face, throws open her cloak

coats my sky in a darkness too strong to revoke

so I’ll open the wine, pour a glass of regret

drown all my yearnings for the day to return

let Night have her way for just a few hours

till Morning releases my Blue from her powers

Review: Song Of The Moon by Helen Laycock

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I read this lovely little book by Helen Laycock over a wild, windy and damp caravanning trip and was readily transported away from the persistent rain to the world of Izzy and her mysterious neighbour. When Mrs Moonsong disappears, it's up to Izzy and her cousin Joe to find her.
As well as having a delightfully entrancing cover, Song Of The Moon is an engaging tale with instantly relatable characters, beautifully painted scenes, believable situations and an exciting story-line that keeps the pages turning. I'm looking forward to reading it again with my 6 year old.

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